


Drive Me Closer

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood, Gore, Hateful weird blowjobs, M/M, Yes that's the awful 40K pun you fucking think it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:15:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On their way to Snoke's citadel, Hux and Kylo Ren find themselves fighting side by side. Hux proves to be unexpectedly competent in battle, and it gives Kylo some urges that can't wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drive Me Closer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeahtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeahtastic/gifts).



“Drive me closer.”

 

“What?”

 

Hux was out of breath already; his fear rose from him like a heat shimmer above a tarmac. He had a white-knuckled grip on the landspeeder's steering harness, a wide-eyed stare fixed down the valley. The jungle was thick, and the ground treacherous, and these sneaking scum knew how to use their surroundings to their advantage.

 

“Drive me closer,” Kylo repeated. “I want to attack them,” he said. “With my lightsaber.”

 

Hux turned around, his face twisted by incredulity. It stood to reason that the young General, so unused to failure, so reliant on his technological terrors, would be so easily turned away by a thin gaggle of geurila fighters.

 

It was not Kylo who was weak, here, though the wound in his side burned with pain. It was not he who was about to surrender to fear, instead of using it, instead of taking it within himself, making it a weapon.

 

The coward who would be his master opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He shut his eyes and revved the speeder.

 

“Fucking—fine. Fine,” Hux hissed. For the first time that day, he pulled the heavy blaster out of the holster he'd strapped to his hip. “This—fine. _Fine._ ”

 

The speeder shot forward with a sudden jerk that caught Kylo off balance; he had to cling tight to the shaking chassis, moving carefully as he prepared to leap off into the fray. There was no way of telling who their enemies were, who had attempted a night assault on their shuttle—maybe Resistance, maybe common bandits, maybe agents sent by Snoke to test Kylo further before he completed his training. In any case, they would bleed. They would all bleed.

 

Hux kept up his muttering while shouldered the blaster with the hand that wasn't gripping the speeder controls. The weapon was almost as big as he was – for a moment, a thread of amusement twisted itself in with the rage and anticipation that enveloped Kylo.

 

He took the speeder up a low ridge, darting between trees on a tight, twisting line that came within inches of his knees.

 

As they neared the grove where the bandits had first attacked them, he turned around to shoot a cold glare at Kylo. “You'd better be fucking ready for this,” he said.

 

“The question, General--”

 

The speeder shot forward. There was a shout in the bushes. Kylo saw the blue flash of a blaster bolt travel past his face.

 

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Hux half-growled, half-whispered to himself.

 

Kylo had lost his balance. He was draped over the speeder like an unconscious captive, holding to the back of Hux's seat for dear life as he whipped the speeder in another rapid serpentine.

 

He heard the discharge of Hux's blaster and looked up to see him twisted sideways in his seat, glancing forward to navigate the speeder in between shots.

 

His target: another speeder, this one overburdened with fighters in masks and goggles.

 

“Hold on,” Hux muttered.

 

“What--”

 

But his answer came in a sudden thruster reverse that almost dislodged him, a quick pivot to the right, another thruster reverse. Hux pumped ten, twelve shots into the speeder he was now behind. One fighter howled in pain as they fell to the ground. Another roared, rising to their feet.

 

“The lightsaber, Ren!” Hux yelled, and for a moment Kylo realized he had been the distracted one, the useless weight on the back of the speeder.

 

Their enemies had lost control of their speeder; they abandoned it, let it go crashing into a wall of stone. Reinforcements were coming, coming on foot, coming in some kind of walker.

 

Kylo leapt from the speeder to fall upon two of the fighters. His lightsaber thrummed in his grip as he swung it against them, a powerful, broad arc that reminded him of his own strength. His breath came deep and even. He saw in terms of target and attacker, prey and predator; was he even seeing? Or was he feeling, picking up the impressions his enemies made in the Force, like ripples in some cosmic fabric that--

 

“Fuck _you!_ ”

 

Hux had brought the landspeeder around for another round of strafing with his blaster, but one of their enemies had thought differently, tried to climb onboard. It was definitely with his eyes that Kylo saw him plant his boot in the man's face, shove him off into the underbrush with a sharp kick and a wordless roar of rage. How had this happened? How had this soft-fingered bureaucrat transformed into a feral predator?

 

He was heading for the walker. Hux was wild-eyed and tight-lipped, his body animated by rage, his nose bloodied, and he was heading for the walker with his blaster on his shoulder and a grin on his face.

 

Kylo looked around him as he charged toward the huge machine. A woman charged him with a blaster, her friend came at his side with a wild cry coming from his throat. Kylo stopped her progress with the Force, knocked her back into the bushes as he swung his saber through the man's gut. His body sang with the rush of combat; his blood was coursing hot and joyous in his veins. The woman rose to her feet, ended her life with Kylo's light saber through her chest.

 

Another shout – this one from Hux. Kylo continued his charge toward the walker. The speeder was hovering beside a tree, riderless – Hux was clinging to the side of the walker, a good thirty feet above the ground, his greatcoat swinging behind him with its every stride.

 

One of the pilots was shooting at him, hanging out the cockpit window. Hux's blaster was back in its holster, doing him no good.

 

Someone in a mask was running toward Kylo. He met their charge with a backhanded swing that rent them nearly in half. He kept charging toward the walker.

 

Kylo swore his heart kept beating as Hux contorted his body, let go of his precarious handhold on the machine. But instead of falling, Hux sprang _upward—_ his gloved hands scrambled for a moment on the metal, and then found another handhold, a handhold he could swing from.

 

Both of the General's boots collided with the walker pilot's face at once. Hux yelled, released his grip once again to go sailing toward the ground. He caught himself on the cockpit door, swung himself inside.

 

A man screamed as the walker came lurching to a halt, teetered on his legs. The man screamed again, and again, and again, and then suddenly he was not screaming anymore.

 

Kylo reached out with the force, buckled the walker's legs. The cockpit dropped toward the ground with an agonized groan; Kylo scrambled onboard through the window.

 

He found Hux sitting in the pilot's seat, staring straight ahead of him, breathing heavy with a dazed half-smile on his face. A constellation of blood drops marred his pale cheeks.

 

Hux turned to face Kylo when he came in. He blinked a couple of times, nodded at him.

 

“Lord Ren,” he said. “I think we've taken care of their heavy guns.”

 

The pilot's face had been reduced to a ruined mass of pulped tissue and jagged bone, eyes leaking and off-kilter. Hux clambered over him to get out of the cockpit. Kylo could see that the butt end of his blaster was covered in thickening blood; something within his own blood was stirring at the sight.

 

“Is that all of them, then?” Hux called from the jungle outside.

 

Kylo did not respond. For a few moments, all that occurred to Kylo was the memory, still thick in the air of the cockpit, the feeling of Hux's rage mixed with that terrible murderous joy that overtook the mind in the heat of battle. His body could not help but respond, as it always did, whenever Hux allowed his passions to run at their full power. His rage enticed Kylo, made him imagine the heat of that pale skin, the sound of that clear voice twisted into a whimper of--

 

“Lord Ren, are you even listening?”

 

Hux was standing outside the cockpit window, his arms crossed in front of him. The blood on his face was smeared, now—had he tried to clean himself off?

 

Kylo clambered out of the cockpit and dropped down to the jungle floor. He straightened himself, released his helmet from his head.

 

Hux frowned at him. “You seem rather confident in our victory,” he said.

 

“They are gone.” He knew, he could feel in the Force, that these raiders, or Resistance fighters, or whoever they were, had been chased off for the time being. They were not all dead, no. They would all be dead, eventually, he _would_ kill them all, but not yet.

 

“Good,” Hux said. “We should return to our shuttle and--”

 

“Not,” Kylo replied. “Not yet.” He realized he was staring at Hux, taking in the form of his body, exhausted by combat, purified by blood. He could not shake the image of the smaller man consumed by wrath, moved by wrath, transformed for those few minutes into such a beautiful, terrible instrument of death.

 

“Not yet?” Hux narrowed his eyes at him. “Lord Ren, what--”

 

“I can feel it,” Kylo said. “I can feel it within you—your hatred, your anger.”

 

Hux arched his brows. “I see,” he said. He straightened his greatcoat on his narrow shoulders, began to turn toward the landspeeder.

 

“No!”

 

For a second, Kylo felt it all slip, felt his grip loosen, felt his brain begin to run past his grip—but as he grabbed Hux by the shoulders and turned him so that he could stare down into those hateful green eyes, he remembered. He remembered who he was.

 

“It made you happy,” he said to Hux. Though his face was placid, the other man's emotions were running as hot and as wild as Kylo's. “Killing that bandit,” he said. “The closer he got to death—the smell of blood. You'll never be able to forget the smell of blood now.”

 

“I--” Hux blinked. “Stop _doing_ that,” he said.

 

“I can see it,” Kylo said. “I can smell it. The blood, on your skin.” He drew Hux closer, so that they could feel each other's body heat but not each other's touch. “It was different,” he said. “When he screamed – when he screamed, you felt it.”

 

The flush on Hux's ears eliminated Kylo's need to say anything further—to mention the rush of sex that overtook the brain when the bulk of a man's passions broke free, to tell him there was no shame in what he felt.

 

“Lord Ren, I appreciate the--”

 

Kylo silenced him with a hard kiss, pressing the General's back against the cabin of the fallen walker. He struggled only weakly. Kylo knew that he would find him hard when his hand made its way down to the front; but there was still that small thrill of discovery, the gentle push Kylo needed to go through with this.

 

Hux let out a gentle groan as their lips separated. “Lord Ren--”

 

But he did not continue, did not stop Kylo from unbuckling his belt, unfastening his fly. He pulled Hux's breeches and shorts down in one fluid motion; his cock stood rigid, its tip already glistening.

 

“We don't have time,” Hux muttered.

 

The General had a point. Instead of wasting time explaining his sudden need to fuck him while the heat of battle was still on his brain, Kylo darted the tip of his tongue down to the very base of Hux's cock, ran the flat of it up the underside of his shaft.

 

Above him, the General made a sound that was probably supposed to convey annoyance. His fingers twisting in Kylo's hair, however, conveyed a different feeling.

 

Kylo wanted to tease him, wanted to pull back and graze the taut skin of his cock until Hux was begging for him, his emotions a mess of frustration and desire.

 

But teasing took self control. And Hux smelled so strongly like blood and hatred. And his hips were already quivering, already squirming in Kylo's grip.

 

When Kylo took his cock in his mouth, Hux sucked in a sharp breath; his fingers tightened in Kylo's hair, pained his scalp. His desire bloomed hot, erratic, twisted inextricably with the killing rage that still ran through his body.

 

It startled him when Hux forced his head down; a short, muffled cry barely had time to escape Kylo's throat before it was jammed full of the other man's cock.

 

“What was that?” Hux whispered, without letting Kylo raise his head to reply. “You _want_ to choke on it?”

 

Inhaling took effort. Kylo held his breath between gasps, relished the fear of suffocation that lurked behind the rush of lust in his mind. He could feel Hux's cock twitch against his tongue as he tightened his lips, could hear his breath grow erratic.

 

 _I could kill him right here_.

 

It wasn't really a coherent thought that Kylo picked up from Hux—it was more of a feeling that rushed out of him, rushed around him. The feeling of _knowing,_ the feeling of _having_ another man on his knees, the feeling of being _ready_ , ready to reach down and snap his neck, to feel his life end between his hands, to embrace his wrath, to--

 

Hux groaned; his hips seized in Kylo's grip. Kylo sputtered at the acrid taste that filled his mouth, but Hux retained his grip on his hair, kept tugging his face down onto his cock as Kylo tried in vain to swallow. Hux kept him gagging on a mouthful of cock until he started to soften again.

 

When he released him, it was with a shove and a gentle kick that sent him sprawling backward onto the ground. Hux did not look at Kylo as he pulled his breeches back up. It was just as well. They were probably not done fighting for the day, and he would need Hux to be in as poor a mood as possible.

 

Kylo stood, walked back toward the landspeeder. “I think I can find these fighters' home base,” he said. “I'll drive – make sure your blaster is operational.”


End file.
